


waiting for the hint of a spark

by Violet_DeLights



Series: Still Not Bitten AU [1]
Category: The Walking Dead (Telltale Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Demon!Clementine, Everybody Dies, F/M, angel!louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-03 14:49:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21181217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Violet_DeLights/pseuds/Violet_DeLights
Summary: She had no concept of how long it had been since she had awoken there, in a blood soaked leather jacket and ripped jeans, and been told the barest facts about her new station in life. She had been human once, she thought, though that may have been a long time ago. She wasn't now.





	waiting for the hint of a spark

_If there's no one beside you when your soul embarks_ _  
_ _Then I'll follow you into the dark_

Clementine reclined against the side of the large oak tree, carefully pulling her wings to either side so as not to scrape them against the bark.

A gust of wind blew through the clearing she found, rustling the tree tops around her and causing the sunlight to dance playfully over her bare arms and legs. She tipped her head back and closed her eyes, listening to the susurrus of leaves brushing together, soaking in the warmth of the sun. These little moments where Clementine could slip away and find a quiet little part of the world to rest were the only times she felt at peace. She could never stay long, flitting from place to place until she was found and taken back, but still she relished this time alone, far from Below.

She couldn't help the way she screwed her eyes shut tighter until black spots popped across the red-black of her eyelids and the way her nose scrunched up at the thought of Below, even now. She had no concept of how long it had been since she had awoken there, in a blood soaked leather jacket and ripped jeans, and been told the barest facts about her new station in life.

She had been human once, she thought, though that may have been a long time ago. She wasn't now.

She was a demon.

As a demon, she was not to leave Below unless ordered, though she rarely ever was. She was small for her kind, young in appearance, and she was usually given lesser tasks because of it, especially compared to others. Her job was collecting new souls to carry down. It was easy work and better than that of those older than her, who slowly gained such cruel, glinting eyes and haggard faces, rushing between different caverns she never dared to step foot in, screams echoing off the walls for days and days in their wake.

Clementine didn't know what she had looked like before, if she had been any different than she was now, but she liked to imagine that she hadn't changed too much. Her skin was a very light brown, her curling hair so dark it was nearly black, brushing against the tops of her shoulders, and the plain shift dress she wore was a designation from Below, shapeless and coal-black.

Her wings reached to the backs of her knees when they were folded down, a deep chocolate in color, and entirely bare. From the very tips of each arch there was a knobby protruding bone that came to a sharp point.

Her eyes were a shifting amber, nearly golden in the right light. She had checked only once, back when she was new and desperate to know more of the world around her; had snatched a small knife from a table close to the caverns. When she had wiped away the blood from its surface with the corner of her dress, she had peered at the image reflected back as closely as she could in the flickering firelight from the torches on the wall. She had been caught by Lilly that time, she remembered, another older demon who had warned her against asking so many questions. She remembered the fierce grin Lily hadn't tried to hide when she whipped her for it too.

Clementine stopped asking questions after that.

But still, sometimes, she wondered: who was she before? What was the world like before the one she knew, of shadowed caves drenched in the scent of iron and the barren landscapes she often ran to? That had been one of the only lessons she had learned in those first few weeks. To become a demon, she had committed a grave sin in her time on Earth. As a result, she had been cast down and remade, stripped of all she was in life except in name, including the memory of what she had done to get there. And that was the ultimate punishment because, while she had forgotten whatever terrible thing she had done, she had forgotten all of the good with it. Had she ever loved, been loved, been _something_ to _someone_?

Clementine didn't know.

She sighed and allowed herself to relax, her expression smoothing out as another breeze moved through, creating another symphony among the leaves and branches above her, intertwined with a few bird chirps here and there. She settled back against her tree, allowing her wings to stretch out farther so that the very tips could touch the dappled sunlight. This place was soothing to her in its quiet, but then, nearly every place she went to was quiet. From an abandoned farmhouse in Ohio, to a cornfield in Iowa, to a frozen river in Michigan, no matter what spot she found to rest it was always deserted, always quiet. Clementine thought that even the other demons were uneasy about it at times, when it was brought up in hushed whispers.

She was collecting less and less souls as time went on. Would there be anyone left soon?

Still, this new spot of hers was perfect and she resolved to stay as long as could, until the sun went down and the cool of the evening chill took over.

Hearing the snap of a twig nearby, she tensed.

_Spoke too soon._

Her eyes snapped open as she hunched forward, pulling her wings to settle against her back, to see who had come for her this time.

_Anyone but Lilly, please, _she thought sourly.

But she froze in place, the breath catching in her lungs as she took in the sight before her.

It was a boy.

Her eyes dragged over the expanse of his feathered wings, white in some places, and tawny in others as they stirred at his sides. Her gaze traveled from one to the other, mesmerized, before she took in the rest of him. His skin was darker than hers, but his hair was a lighter brown, pulled back and away from in face in dreadlocks that were chin length. He was wearing a white long sleeve shirt that looked soft to the touch and of which the first few buttons in the front were unbuttoned, showing a glimpse of his collarbones, paired with white slacks. He was also barefoot, same as her. It wasn't until she saw him take a step forward, towards her, that she scrambled to her feet and, in doing so, locked gazes with him.

Clementine nearly gasped.

His eyes were a deep russet, but what surprised her was the shine of tenderness in them as he looked at her, holding her sight steadily with his own.

The stillness of the clearing was broken by the nearby screech of an animal and, without thinking, she broke her stare, head snapping to the right where the sound had issued. She bent her knees as her wings flared and then she was airborne, ignoring the startled shout below her.

_New isn't always safe, _a small voice resonated within her and she listened to it, letting herself glide over the treetops until another shriek issued nearby. Clementine carefully angled her body down and pulled her wings in gradually, until she was just above ground, letting them buffet the dirt until her feet gently touched down. Automatically she rushed forward, falling to her knees before the small, rusted bear trap, half tangled in the overgrown shrubbery. Frantically kicking and squealing was a tiny wild boar, just a baby by the looks of things.

“Hello there,” Clementine murmured, carefully reaching out and wrapping one hand around the body of the piglet.

Clearly exhausted and frightened, it went limp in her grasp and she shushed it gently as she examined where it's leg had been caught. She laid it down slowly, it's panicked breaths puffing against her palm. Pushing her fingers between the minuscule gap made at the leg, she pried at it, huffing when her efforts yielded nothing, the trap barely budging. Frustrated, she blew at a rampant curl on her forehead and redoubled her efforts, straining to pull the teeth of the trap apart. Finally, with a shrieking groan, the metal began to give way and, finally free, the piglet clambered onto shaky legs and bolted, letting out fainter and fainter squeals as it ran.

Clementine yanked her hands away and the trap came together with an almighty clang. She wiped at the sweat on her brow with her forearm, hoping the baby would find its mother quickly.

“What was that all about?”

Her backside hit the dirt in an attempt to rapidly turn to face the newcomer, her feet sliding out from underneath her. She found herself gaping at the boy from before.

“What?”

He grinned and waved an expansive hand in the direction the boar had run.

“Why'd you do that?” he asked curiously.

Clementine found herself blinking rapidly, utterly confused.

“It was hurt,” she responded slowly.

“Yes,” he agreed. “But why did _you _help it?”

There was a pause and she got the feeling that they were both on the edge of something vast and whatever she said next would have them tipping one way or another, but to what she didn't know, and the gravity of it pressed at her until she fisted her hands in the grass at her sides.

“Why wouldn't I?” she finally said, glaring at him.

If anything, his grin widened and his wings fluttered behind him as he strode toward her and held his hand out.

“I'm Louis.”

Casting a suspicious glance up at him, she hesitantly put her hand in his palm and allowed him to pull until she was standing before him and, like this, could see that he looked as young as she did, was even only a little taller than her.

“Clementine,” she answered, pulling her hand back quickly when she realized he hadn't let go. She felt an unfamiliar warmth in her cheeks.

“Nice to meet you,” he said, softly, and Clementine was amazed to hear the sincerity in his voice.

She felt a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth when an icy swirl of air nipped at her calves and, with a glimpse at the closest tree shadow, saw the darkness congregating there, growing thicker and more malevolent.

“Hide!” she growled at him, clutching at his shoulders and pushing him behind her, letting her wings burst out behind her, trembling, pushed as far as they could go. She was surprised when he immediately did so, ducking down to the side of her, sidling up behind the nearest tree, the feathers of his wings briefly brushing against her bare ones and causing a shiver to cascade through her. She thought she heard a strangled gasp from Louis at the same time, but she couldn't focus as the shadows coalesced and out walked Carver.

Clementine hissed, taking an instinctive step back.

Of all the demons Below, she hated Carver most of all, simply for the pure pleasure he took in torturing those assigned to him. She felt sorry for the poor souls she saw ushered in and carried out in mutilated wisps, crimson spattered and dead in a way they hadn't been before, gazes listless. Carver enjoyed their wails, enjoyed the knives and chains and darkness. She avoided him at all costs. Today, it seemed, she wouldn't be so lucky.

“Ah, Clementine,” he drawled as he strolled up to her, dark eyes promising pain. “You know you aren't suppose to come up until ordered. Everyone has a job to do and they do it to be useful to the community. You don't want to be a liability, do you?”

The fading breeze tugged at his black slacks and black shirt as he stopped before her, but he paid no mind, instead reaching out to caress the side of her face in a mockery of gentleness. She nearly gagged. Suddenly, his features hardened and the hand at her chin tightened to the point of pain.

“Do you?” he repeated dangerously.

Part of Clementine wanted to shout, wanted to push away and yell _'yes!' _in revolt_\-- kick at his knee to bring him down and then bear your knife down, Clementine, it makes it easier-- _wanted to whirl into her own shadows and come out somewhere so desolate they'd never find her again.

Instead she shook her head mutely, tamping down at the rage inside her.

“Good girl,” he chuckled. His hand came down to catch roughly at her wrist and he yanked her forward toward the dark patch next to another tree. As she stumbled along behind him, she gave a peek over her shoulder and saw Louis edging out from his own tree, staring after her.

The last thing she saw was his wings spread, beautiful and bright and different, before they swirled away down Below.

x

Surprisingly, it was only a few days later when she found herself back in the clearing. Normally it would take her weeks to shake the suspicious glances thrown her way before she could sidle up to the nearest shadow and be pulled away, but, this time, another flurry of worried mutterings had started up about the lack of fresh souls and it had been all too easy to fade into the background and escape. Clementine was just getting comfortable, wings splayed as she lay back on the grass when she heard the shuffle of another pair of wings and opened her eyes to see Louis leaning over her head, wide smile in place.

She quickly sat up.

“Hello again!” he chirped happily, settling himself down next to her, even when she frowned and pointedly shifted her wings away from him. He didn't seem to notice, happily humming as he twisted at the stems of the wild flowers covering his palms. Clementine didn't answer, fascinated by watching his fingers deftly weave the stems together until a chain of flowers started to form in shades of sapphire and amethyst.They sat there like that for some time, him humming away and her ignoring him, or trying to, until she finally snapped, “Don't you know any other songs?”

His hands paused in their work as he threw her a startled glance before he laughed. “One. But you might not like it.”

Clementine arched an eyebrow at him, silently daring him to continue. He shrugged before clearing his throat and then she heard--

“_Oh my darling, oh my darling, oh my darling Clementine...”_

_Clementine, baby, if you can hear this call the police...._

_You have to shoot me, honey._

_I know you will, Clementine._

“-- mentine!”

Her body jerked as her eyes flew open and she felt wetness trail down her cheeks.

“What is it?” Louis asked, concerned, and when she looked up she saw him bite his lip, worried.

“I... I think I remembered something... but it's so fuzzy... I'm not sure,” she stuttered out between strangled gasps, wiping at her eyes.

“Must have been one bad memory. I'm sorry,” he told her and there was that sincerity again, making her throat close up and another sob burst from her.

“I think it might still be better than the nothing of before, believe it or not,” she huffed.

His brow furrowed. “How do you mean?”

Clementine sighed, scrubbing her fists beneath her eyes harshly.

“When you become a demon you become a new person. You don't keep anything of before,” she recited monotonously, checking to make sure no new tears were escaping. She nearly missed the bewildered little noise that escaped Louis. She looked at him curiously but he was gazing at her in astonishment, brown eyes blown wide.

“You mean you don't remember your life?!” he practically shouted and she flinched, not expecting it.

“No,” she mumbled, suddenly exhausted. “And keep your voice down.”

“Sorry,” he grumbled back, wings rustling agitatedly before he leaned against her, his head dropping down onto her shoulder and making her freeze in response. Carefully, he slid the flowers over to her lap, gently entwining her fingers into their stems. She didn't dare move until his hands were gone and she took a shuddered inhale. No one had ever been so tender with her.

“Angels aren't the same,” he muttered, head still pillowed on her shoulder. “It sounds terrible.”

“It kind of is,” she agreed, fingers twisting into the crown and dislodging a few petals. Something fragile sat in the space between them and Clementine was loathe to break it until Louis suddenly heaved himself up, beaming as he turned to her and grasped her hands once more, nearly crushing the flowers between them.

“There's a record kept Above!” he whispered excitedly. “A record of the way everyone dies!”

“What? Why would there be something like that Above?” she whispered back, perplexed.

“Well, they keep a copy of everyone's life so they also capture their death,” he shrugged, a gleam in his eye that filled Clementine with hope.

“I'll find the record. I can tell you about yourself; anything you want to know, Clem,” the angel said gently.

Clementine could hardly speak, overcome with gratitude. “Louis....”

“I know, I know,” he said boisterously, climbing to his feet and giving her a hand up. “I'm amazing.”

She laughed like she hadn't in years, possibly ever, long and delighted, and Louis stared at her, slack jawed.

“Yeah, you are,” she told him, flushed from laughing, grin so wide it felt like it was breaking her face in two.

“Right,” he said blankly. He blinked a few times before seeming to shake himself. “Meet me back here in three days. That will give me enough time to sneak into records, okay?”

She nodded, lost for words and flung her arms around him, unintentionally burying her fingers into downy feathers in the process. “Thank you, Louis.”

The angel stiffened, but, after a moment, relaxed into it, slipping his arms out from her hold to wrap around and pull her closer. After another long moment, he stepped back and, with another smile, and a small wave, he launched himself up, wings flared wide and nearly blinding in the sun.

x

Three days later found Clementine pacing the clearing, wings constantly fidgeting and betraying her internal agitation. Any moment now she would find out who she really was and the thought was as terrifying as it was exhilarating. It felt like hours later, but was probably only minutes, when she heard Louis touch down behind her. She whirled around and ran to his side, vibrating with excitement.

“Well?” she ended up blurting out.

He looked at her fondly but there was something not quite right in his eyes and the smile he gave her was subdued. He didn't look at her when he started to speak, stared at a point over her shoulder, and she felt her body go cold. “No,” she whimpered.

“Clementine...”

“No, no!” She shouted, stumbling back. She didn't want to know, not anymore, not if Louis couldn't look at her. What kind of monster was she?

“You killed an innocent, Clementine.”

There was absolute silence in the clearing and it felt like the air had been sucked from her lungs, eyes wide and throat suddenly dry.

“There was a little boy. His name was AJ--”

_ \--A bundle in her arms, clutched close as she smears the two of them in walker guts. His face scrunches and his mouth opens to let out a cry but she presses her fingers to his lips, shushing him. She'll keep him safe at any cost--_

_ \--She steals the medicine. They kick her out for it but she doesn't care because already the sickly sheen is receding from his eyes and that's worth anything. They rip him from her arms anyway--_

_ \--She pulls him from the locker, covered in blood, and gently wipes his face dry in the Mustang. His little hand on hers is everything--_

“AJ,” she mouthed. She couldn't see the clearing anymore, could barely hear Louis over the cascading images replayed before her.

“You two were traveling, trying to find a safe place, but there wasn't any. You ran out of gas and were surrounded--”

_ \--The cabin is decrepit but there's nothing else and it's the only shelter they have. _ _She barricades the door by pushing a rotted bookcase before it and a moth eaten couch after that. She can hear the groans increasing, coming from every direction and, soon, rotted arms are thrust through the gaps in the boards over the two windows on either side. _ _Clementine rushes forwards and scoops AJ up from the center of the room, bouncing him slightly as he starts to quietly cry. _

_"Be brave, AJ,” she tells him, not letting her fear strangle her voice. A board gives way over the window to their right and she brings her gun up as the walker crawls in and lurches up. AJ's little hands tremble at her chest as he buries his head in under her neck, hitching sobs wracking through his little body. _ _She takes careful aim and,with a bang, a neat little hole appears in the walker's forehead and he goes down. The banging at both windows and the door increases and she can hear the creak and snap of wood giving way even as she backs up until they hit the corner of the room. _ _She casts her gaze around frantically, but there is no ammo, no weapons, just a sagging bed next to the left window and a half decayed table in the middle of everything. With a great crash, the bookcase topples over and the couch is pushed forward._

“_No!” she cries and feels AJ clutch at her tighter._

_Bodies pile in, stumbling over the others before staggering forward. She aims and pops off shot after shot, each walker hitting the ground but hardly stemming the flow behind them. _ _She fires until the gun clicks on empty and she shifts AJ on her hip to reload, shudders when she sees she only has four bullets left. Her knife is in the car and there's no way out, nothing she can use as a distraction, nothing she can do. She fires off two more rounds, and it doesn't matter that they're perfect head shots, a female walker is almost on them, rotted jaw hinged wide and snarling._ _Clementine presses back against the corner and kisses AJ's forehead as he cries._

“_I'm so sorry, kiddo,” she chokes out. “I love you.”_

_She brings up the gun and tips the muzzle to his temple, right as the walker reaches them, fetid breath washing over them. _

_Clementine shuffles to the side, briefly buying a few precious seconds as she squeezes the trigger._

_A splatter of warmth and the tiny body in her arms jerks, cries abruptly cut off. She clutches him closer anyway, his body gone floppy in her arms, right as rough hands grasp at her shoulder and she feels teeth start to bear down. Quickly she raises the gun to her own temple._

_Clementine pulls the trigger._

“-- and neither of you made it out. Clem?”

Her knees gave out. She felt a pair of arms slide under her legs as she was cradled against someone, but she couldn't see through the thick veil of tears, could hardly breathe through the emotions choking her. She was settled in someone's lap and she could feel feathers brushing around her and enfolding her, cushioning her against-- _Louis, it's Louis, _she thought dazedly-- Louis's chest and the muted darkness was soothing to her tortured eyes as she wildly sobbed, hands fastened in his shirt.

Later, when her tears dried and she stared blankly at her clenched fists, she would be able to hear the sweet song Louis was murmuring to her, though she couldn't make out the words. She would be able to register the calming warmth of his wings surrounding them, keeping her safe, and his eyes, staring at her with something unnameable in their depths, the same look she'd seen her dad give her mom, once upon time.

Later, much later, she'd realize she'd come to look at him the same way.

But, for now, she unwound her hands and made to stand and he helped her rise unto unsteady legs, hovered close to her all the while. When he tried to step back, she let one hand slip down and entwine with his, arresting the movement.

“It's OK,” she said hoarsely, could feel the worry radiating off him. “Thank you for telling me. I needed to know.”

“I'm sorry, Clem. I wish I'd had something better to tell you. But the world was a pretty dark place before we were remade and, if it means anything....”

He waited until she looked up, brown meeting brown.

“... You did the right thing. It's not all you are, Clem. There's more to you.”

It didn't ease the newfound ache that had taken up residence next to her heart, but the delicate press of his lips against hers settled some of the whirling thoughts in her head. The burgeoning curl of something like happiness she could feel at the gesture twitched a small smile onto her face.

“I've got something I want to show you,” she said softly. He nodded and, when she pulled at their clasped hands, he followed her to the wisp of dark shadow by a nearby tree that swirled up to meet them. When they stepped out, they found themselves in a large backyard. The fence around them had broken in several places and the house behind them had seen better days, half falling apart. But she directed her gaze upward and, out of the corner or her eye, saw Louis do the same.

Up in the thick branches of the oak before them sat a tiny house, faded pink and purple paint nearly stripped away with time.

“This is where I first met a man named Lee...”


End file.
